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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029226">By Lifting Others</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoBeIt123/pseuds/SoBeIt123'>SoBeIt123</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, If you're looking for smut you're in the wrong place, Relationships will be tagged when they appear, Sexism, Slow Burn, This is an omega verse so its gonna happen, This will not be Itama/OC, Warring States Period (Naruto)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:07:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoBeIt123/pseuds/SoBeIt123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair very distinctly remembered dying. That was why he was very surprised to be waking up in the body of the child he apparently reincarnated into. He was even more surprised to find that his next life took place in the world of an anime he had only peripheral knowledge of. Now armed with a bloodline and the memories of the brief, bloody life from the person he used to be, the only thing he knew was that he wanted to survive.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character(s) &amp; Senju Itama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A new beginning from another's end</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: Mentions of Human Trafficking</p><p>I'm always open to constructive criticism.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Chinoike Ren was fleeing from his own clan.</p><p> </p><p>Everything had gone so wrong. He could not remember what happened to get his clan exiled, he was only months old at the time. All he knew was the Uchiha expelled them from their homeland, and that they had eventually settled in the Valley of Hell.</p><p> </p><p>Panting, the boy brushed white blond hair out of his eyes and ran faster as he heard his pursuers draw nearer.</p><p> </p><p>Many of his clan wanted to seek revenge on the Uchiha for forcing them out, and many others just wanted to stay in the Valley and live in peace. Ren couldn’t remember a time when there wasn’t a form of tension within his family, but he didn’t expect it to end like this.</p><p> </p><p>It started when one kunoichi had cast a genjustu at her sister while they were arguing, and then all out war had erupted. Ren was reluctant but had stayed and fought out of loyalty to his parents and sister who hated the Uchiha with a passion. But when his mother was cut down in front of him by his cousin, he ran. He didn’t care about the Uchiha, he just wanted to be away from the death.</p><p> </p><p>He’d made it out of the Valley and was travelling in the direction of Oto when he had been found by a group of shinobi from a rival clan. Now he was running in the direction of the Land of Fire to hopefully shake off his pursuers. He knew that he ran the risk of running into an Uchiha or other clan, but his pursuers would be a more immediate threat for any of them to deal with.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t a good plan, but it was the best he had.</p><p> </p><p>Ren pushed chakra into his tired limbs to run faster and collapsed with a cry of pain as a kunai embedded itself into his calf. He pulled himself up to his feet, wincing at the pain, and turned to face the direction the weapon had flew from. His pursuers burst into the clearing, victory in their eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Grimacing, Ren pushed some of his remaining chakra into his eyes, activated his ketsuryūgan and settled himself into his taijutsu stance.</p><p> </p><p>He knew that he was going to die here, but he would be damned if he didn’t go down fighting.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Blair came to with a groan, an intense pain radiating from his chest. He stopped.</p><p> </p><p>He very distinctly remembered dying. He tried to sit up, but the pain increased, lancing up his chest, and he collapsed back onto his back. He moved his lead-filled limbs to try to feel his chest but froze once his hands entered his field of vision.</p><p> </p><p>Hi hands were calloused and rough, but they were slender and delicate. The hands of a child. Panicked, he tried to scramble of the earth, but collapsed again.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>What was going on?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He rolled himself onto his side with a grunt, to see a bloodied corpse resting beside him. Once again he froze, this time with the beginnings of a cry of distress rising in his throat. Then the memories kicked in.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes went wide and unseeing despite the grisly sight in front of him as the memories of Chinoike Ren flashed through his mind. There was chakra, monstrous beasts, and a constant never-ending war between clans.</p><p> </p><p>Despite himself, hysterical laughter began to bubble up in his throat, and he rolled away from the corpse. This body was his, he knew that with a bone-deep certainty. He wasn’t a zombie, nor had he stolen this life from a stranger. Blair did not now why he knew this, but he knew in his soul that it was true. That meant that he had been reincarnated into a child solider from a clan that had destroyed itself. He-as-Ren had died, and instead of passing on, his memories of him-as-Blair had awoken. He didn’t know how he was alive, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.</p><p> </p><p>The second thing adding to his hysteria was that, according to what he remembered form Ren, he was in the Elemental Nations. From Naruto, an anime that he had barely passing knowledge on. He knew enough to figure that he was in the Warring Clans era, but that was about it. There was some half-remembered knowledge from rants he’d heard about the anime that tickled his mind, something about a deranged moon goddess?</p><p> </p><p>Whatever. Crazy moon goddess or no, <em>he was in Naruto.</em> And not just any part of Naruto, he was in the most life-threatening period of the anime.</p><p> </p><p>Holy shit, he was going to die. Again.</p><p> </p><p>No, he couldn’t think like that. If he believed that he would die, then it was only a matter of time until it happened. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he wanted to survive. His life had been cut short in both of his lives and he wanted this third time to last a fair bit longer.</p><p> </p><p>Even with his determination to not be fatalistic, it was hard to ignore the fact that he was alone in this world. Ren’s (his) clan was dead, they had destroyed themselves.  As for Blair’s (his) family… well. They were not really worth thinking about.</p><p> </p><p>He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand up. He was most definitely not going to make it if he stayed here. He surveyed the clearing one last time, the memories of Ren’s – his – final stand flashing through his mind. He stood there for one more moment, the enormity of the situation weighing down on him, before he turned a slowly made his way into the forest.</p><p> </p><p>He was alive. Even with the injuries, and aching loneliness he was beginning to feel, he was alive. That, if nothing else, was something he could find joy in.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He woke up to a hand shaking his shoulder. He bolted upright, and then immediately regretted it as his still-injured chest decided to make itself known. Oddly enough, the first the he recognized was a soothing scent.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m so sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Cursing himself for falling asleep, he opened his eyes to meet the gaze of a blue-eyed woman. She held her hands up in an attempt to seem harmless, and that scent shifted and mellowed further still. He immediately didn’t trust her. She was dressed as a civilian, had the make-up and perfumes that he knew were common in the higher class, but what kind of upper-class civilian in this era goes over to a sleeping, obviously injured person – regardless of age- without a guard or at least a weapon?</p><p> </p><p>However, he knew that being suspicious would not help him in the slightest, so he decided to go with it. He carefully shuffled back, and let some of his wariness show. She looked genuinely worried about him as she spoke again.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry for scaring you, but do you need help? We spotted you here, and you looked hurt.” At his still suspicious look, she continued. “Why don’t you come with me? I can help you with your injuries at least.”</p><p> </p><p>Wandering off with a group of shifty strangers was a very stupid thing to do, but what choice did he have? He needed help. Besides, he still remembered – no, was still enough of a shinobi to escape a group of civilians should they prove hostile. Carefully, he nodded.</p><p> </p><p>The woman smiled, her already beautiful features highlighted by the expression.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Kagura. What’s your name?”</p><p> </p><p>He opened his mouth to respond but stopped. Ren or Blair? He did not know. He believed that someone’s memories and experiences made them who they were, and he had the memories of himself-as-Ren and himself-as-Blair. That meant that in this new life of his, he was both people.</p><p> </p><p>‘This new life of his’. Therein lay the answer. Decision made, he bowed to the woman, ignoring the pain radiating from his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Asahi.”</p><p> </p><p>A new name for a new life.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He, no Asahi, slowly followed Kagura to her camp, where two men awaited. One looked up, surprised as they entered the campsite. His skin prickled as the man’s gaze fell on him. The one who had not reacted to their entrance spoke first.</p><p> </p><p>“Kagura?” She smiled, and gently pushed him in front of her. “This is Asahi. We’ll be taking care of him for a while.” The way she said that made it clear that she wasn’t asking. The one with the creepy stare decided to contribute to the conversation, addressing him instead of Kagura. “And how does a young Omega end up injured and alone in the middle of the forest?”</p><p> </p><p>Asahi paused. <em>Omega?</em></p><p> </p><p>The memories of Re- of his second life flowed to the forefront of his mind. If Asahi wasn’t trying to portray an innocent, traumatized orphan, he would have sworn like a sailor. He was in an <em>Omega </em>in an<em> Omega verse. </em> That was just unfair. As if being in the Warring Clans era was not enough.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he forced himself to speak in a trembling voice. “My-my family. We were attacked-“</p><p> </p><p>The man raised his hand and smiled, his greedy eyes growing more intent. “Say no more. I understand. We’ll take care of you now.” Asahi forced a thankful expression onto his face. This situation was growing worse by the minute.</p><p> </p><p>Kagura’s grasp on his shoulder tightened and she began to steer him to a tent that was erected in the campsite. “Let’s look at those wounds of those, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>She ushered him into the tent and bid him to sit down in the middle of the tent as she began to tend to his wounds. The whole affair made him feel acutely uncomfortable, not in a bad touch kind of way, but in an objectifying kind of way. He could not help but feel as if she was surveying a damaged product instead of an injured child. Finished bandaging and cleaning his wounds, Kagura handed him a cup of water and bid him to drink it. He did, carefully downing to water.</p><p> </p><p>He was right to be suspicious. It was drugged. A sleeping powder, if his experiences as Ren were correct. He slowly let his eyes fall shut and let himself go limp. Thankfully, it was a Chinoike practice to gain an immunity to as many poisons as possible as soon a feasible. He felt Kagura put a blanket on him, and heard the flap of the tent rustle. Asahi focused, and pushed the little chakra he had at the moment into his ears.</p><p> </p><p>“- a liability. Good catch or not, it’s not worth the materials we would waste.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’ll fetch a good price once he’s healed enough. A young omega with no family to speak of? The benefit is worth the cost.”</p><p> </p><p>Ren cut the chakra supply to his ears as he heard one of them move towards the tent. He was right not to trust him. They were planning to sell him. He honestly didn’t know if this day could get any worse.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t run, not until he was healed. That meant that he had to play along with this until he was well enough to flee. Yes, he was a pre- teen, but he was also a shinobi in this life, and that meant he was more than strong enough to escape a trio of evil civilians.</p><p> </p><p>He was not looking forwards to this.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Asahi had been here for nearly a week, and he was finally healed enough to leave. This entire affair was disgusting from start to finish, and he could not wait to be out of here.  He was going to make a break for it tonight. Kagura would be on watch, and he would kill all of them before leaving.</p><p> </p><p>He had never been one for violence, not in any of his lives, but he could not let these people continue. It was obvious they had done this or something like this before. Their actions around him were practiced and steady, no true glimpse of their true natures evident except when they spoke when they thought him asleep. Even worse, all three were alphas, and they used the biological sway they had over him due to their dynamics to try to enforce submission on him. It wasn’t so obvious that an actual civilian his age would notice, but it was very evident to him. This world already had enough issues without people like them adding to it.</p><p> </p><p>The moon was rising high in the sky, and he grasped the handle of the shoddily made knife he had stolen the day previous. Silently he ghosted out of the tent he had been in, skillfully stepping around the sleeping forms of the two men of the group. In the end, it was quite simple. He snuck up behind Kagura and slit her throat.</p><p> </p><p>She collapsed back into him, and he braced himself against her weight, ignoring the trembling that had developed in his hands, and quietly lowered her body to the ground. He turned back to the other two and neatly slid his knife along their throats as well.</p><p> </p><p>That was all it took to end a life. A blade and pressure.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi forced back the horror rising within him, it was the first time he had taken a life since he had awoken. As Blair he had never killed anyone, and as Ren he had only ever killed in combat. This was the first time he had performed an assassination on defenseless targets in any of his lives. Slavers or not, the weight of taking a life so ruthlessly was still heavy.</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring his shaking hands, he quickly stole some supplies and sprinted off into the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Your identity is your greatest possession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: Someone tries to pressure Asahi into a relationship, nothing comes of it but its there</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>He was very hot. He was practically sweating through his top, which was ridiculous because it was autumn. It had been three days since his escape from the slavers, and Asahi had been running ever since. His memories told him that he was somewhere in the northernmost portion of the Land of Fire. Not the wisest place to be in, but stay here, he would. It was the only country he knew anything of value about besides Lightning – which he was exiled from – and Hot Water – which he was not going back too.</p><p> </p><p>At least in the Land of Fire, he had some form of foreknowledge. First, he needed to figure out what he knew. The Uchiha and Senju were terrifying and were fighting. The clan heads Hashirama and Madara used to be friends and dreamed of creating the village that would become Konoha. Madara eventually goes crazy because his brother dies. He knew that the Bijuu were not homicidal maniacs, but they were to be avoided. There was also something about the Sage of Six Paths and reincarnation as well, but that was not relevant right now.</p><p> </p><p>That was…not much information. Wonderful.</p><p> </p><p>He stopped in the bough of a tree to take a breather, another wave of…heat….oh no. Omegaverse. He was an Omega. He was in <em>heat. </em>That was not good.</p><p> </p><p>He lifted his head and channeled chakra to see if he could hear or catch the scent of anyone near and staggered, as the sounds of blood and violence reached his ears, along with the aggressive scents of angry and desperate alphas and betas.</p><p> </p><p>He did not want to be caught by a battle-fresh alpha amid his heat, that would end very badly for him. Asahi knew that while this particular brand of omegaverse was not quite as extreme as the ones portrayed in the fiction he had read as Blair, violence still brought out those primal instincts.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi carefully leaped closer to the scene of the battle - his scent was not quite so prominent yet- wanting to know what he was dealing with. He focused chakra into his eyes, not enough to activate his ketsuryūgan, but enough to sharpen his vision, and saw a couple of brown-haired shinobi fighting a dark-haired shinobi. There were a few other corpses slumped on the earth, each ranging from neatly dead to horrifically maimed. The clearing was destroyed, ravaged by fire and water. Weapons littered the ground along with blood and other miscellaneous fluids that he did not want to know the identity of. Senju and Uchiha. Great.</p><p>Aside from the clearing he had been ‘born’ in, Asahi had never seen the aftermath of a legitimate shinobi fight for himself in this life. It was terrifying if he was honest with himself. That people could bend the elements to their will, that they used them against each other… It would be amazing in different circumstances, but it seemed that the human propensity for violence would always prevail.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi’s first life had been that of a slow, painful death from a terminal disease with an uncaring family, his second had ended with his clan destroying itself, and his third was already becoming steeped in violence. He just wanted to get away from all of this. He wanted somewhere that he could live in peace. Maybe have a family that he could love, and that loved him in return. He did not know much about what he wanted in the future, but he knew he was not going to get involved in <em>this</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The two Senju finished off the Uchiha with a fire-water attack, boiling the man alive. Nausea rose in Asahi’s stomach as he watched the man slowly die under the uncaring gaze of his opponents.</p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath in and out to calm himself. He had to focus. Now was not the time to be squeamish.</p><p> </p><p> Just two Senju. If worst came to worst, he was at least good enough to give them the slip. Asahi turned away, intending to make his way away from the scene of the battle, when a gust of wind blew through the area he was in, carrying his scent to the two Alphas.</p><p> </p><p>They stiffened, heads turning to his location. Asahi bolted.</p><p> </p><p>He had always disliked the whole interplay of dynamics and consent thing, and experiencing it did not make him like it anymore. He cursed himself for his curiosity; he should have just left when he heard the fighting. He knew that if they were in their right minds and not fresh off a battlefield, then they would have much less of a problem resisting his scent. He knew that if he were fresh from fighting and caught the smell of an Alpha in rut, then he would respond instinctually as well. Even now, he felt a tugging in himself, urging him to submit, to go to them, to please them, but he resolutely ignored it. He was the only person here in something approaching a clear mind, and if anything happened, it would be a violation of all of them.</p><p> </p><p> All he could do was get his scent out of the equation, and hope that those Senju were decent people. If it came to a fight, he would lose. As Ren, he had been suited to stealth and support, not outright combat, and he had neglected his training ever since he woke up.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi had passed a field of strong-smelling flowers a little way back. Their scent would probably cover his own. The scent of heat wasn’t too pervasive without the proper stimulus to the body, and he had no intention of providing that. Hopefully, the overpowering smell of those flowers would be enough to muddy his scent. He fed more chakra into his limbs, and went faster, directing himself towards the clearing. He burst into it, and dove into a flowering shrub, pulling his chakra into himself, suppressing it as Ren had done so many times.</p><p> </p><p>He could not hide his scent with any chakra technique, but the chakra itself had something to do with the magnetism of heat or rut. If it was allowed to run free, it practically flashed ‘DO ME’ in bright, neon letters to anyone with the appropriate senses.</p><p> </p><p>He could feel the pervasive ache of his heat building, beginning to yearn for some kind of release. He ignored it, knowing that if he did anything, his scent would grow more substantial, and he would be screwed. He was still for a time, straining his ears, heat building and receding in increasingly painful waves.</p><p> </p><p>He was in the middle of nowhere with no shelter or protection, and he was probably going to be stuck in this clearing for the duration of his heat. If he were strong enough to ignore his own body, the heat would be over faster, but it would take a higher toll. He could not afford to be stuck here for three or more days, so he would have to opt for Jedi master levels of denying himself, and hope for the best.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi listened carefully for the two Senju. There was nothing. He tentatively reached out with his chakra. Still nothing. He began to relax slowly, but then the dam in his mind holding back his heat broke, and he was swept under those desperate waves.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Asahi came to with a groan, the burning of the last however long finally residing.  Luckily, he was still in the clearing. By some twist of fate, no one had come across him.</p><p> </p><p>Unfulfilled heat was terrible. It was the most painful thing he had ever endured in any of his lives. He had barely succeeded in not giving in to the lust, but the agonizing want had transformed into plain agony under his refusal to give himself any kind of release. He ached down to his very bones, and his body was throbbing in time to his heartbeat. There were bloody furrows in his palms and arms. After a moment,  the memory of scratching his nails down his arms and digging them into his palms flashed before his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The only good thing about his heat was that he felt more…integrated for lack of a better word. He had clearer memories of both his lives, and they felt like his own now, instead of another’s.</p><p> </p><p>He forced himself up, grimacing at the sheen of dry sweat and dirt on his skin. He needed a bath, and he needed to take care of his wounds as soon as possible. He dragged himself over to where he had put the items he had stolen from Kagura and pulled out the map he had taken. Looking over it, he quickly figured out where he was – in the area where the Senju tended to wander. There was a village situated close to a river located what looked to be half a day’s travel from his general area.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi forced himself onto his feet and forced his wane chakra reserves –  heat took more of a toll on chakra reserves than an alpha’s rut, which he found to be incredibly unfair- and activated his ketsuryūgan for the first time. He had not put much thought into his dojutsu, but he knew that he could control blood or any liquid with enough iron using it, though it was a higher-level technique that he had only begun to learn as Ren. He focused on his arms, and slowly forced his blood to clot and immediately felt a drain on his reserves, the ache of his body growing worse. He needed to get stronger than this. Asahi had no intention of getting involved in the fighting, but not improving himself was just plain stupid.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled himself to his feet and used the morning sun to orient himself in the direction of the river. He <em>really</em> wanted that bath.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Feeling much more refreshed, Asahi pulled his only other outfit. His other was dirty and torn from him wearing it for the past however long, but now he needed to join a civilian society, and appearance was important. If he wanted some measure of respect, then he would have to look put together. There was already enough riding against him as is. He needed food, he had enough food for one more meal, and he needed to eat a lot to compensate for all the energy he had burned during his heat. That village was only about half an hour away from the river, so he decided to start there.</p><p> </p><p>His bath was…enlightening. He, like all male omegas, was intersex. Even with his memories, he had not been expecting that. It was one thing to remember it, but it was a whole other thing to experience it. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. He could bear children; therefore, he had to have a womb. Female alphas were like him too, though they were much less likely to carry a child as opposed to sire one. The idea of having children of his own one day was an unexpectedly warming thought, but he could not think about the distant future right now.</p><p> </p><p>In other news, he had finally gotten a good look at himself in the water. He was fortunate that, aside from the characteristic violet eyes, he did not share the appearance of a typical Chinoike. Instead of the pale brown or sandy blond paired with the slightly tanned skin characteristic to his clan, he had pale white-blond hair and mocha skin. Due to his dynamic, his features were delicate and somewhat androgynous, but still undeniably male. His lack of resemblance to his clan had been a point of contention as Ren, but he was very thankful for it now.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi had no illusions about what could happen to him in this world. To ninja, omegas were not seen as weak per se – no shinobi or kunoichi would be that stupid – but they were seen as malleable. The ketsuryūgan was a dojutsu comparable to the Sharingan or the Byakugan, so if some opportunistic clan wanted that dojutsu for their own, all they would have to do is force a mate onto him and have him bear children to gain his bloodline. Kekkai Genkai had a higher chance of passing from the mother when two clans mixed, so him being an omega Chinoike made him a potential target for bloodline theft along with a myriad of other unsavory things.</p><p> </p><p>Right now, he was not strong enough to bear the name of the clan he was born in. It was funny; he had gotten strangely attached to the clan name despite the abandonment of his original name in this life. As Ren, he had taken great pride in his clan, and that trait was still evident now, though tempered by his experiences as Blair.</p><p> </p><p>For a ninja, clan was the only certainty you had. Asahi's was dead by their own hands, but he still wanted to continue the clan name, to continue that legacy in some way. But for now, he needed a new name. Until he was strong enough to bear that name and its repercussions, the Chinoike would die with Ren.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi could finally see the entrance to the village. He quickly approached it, looking forwards to giving his aching muscles a rest. He quietly entered the town and made his way into the bustling market that lined the main street through the middle of the settlement.</p><p> </p><p>There was a middle-aged woman selling food at one of the stalls, a beta by her scent. He quickly made his way to her, his stomach aching. She had a myriad of fruits, which sounded phenomenal. As he steadily made his way through the apples he had bought, the woman decided to speak up.</p><p> </p><p>“Haven’t seen you around here. You just coming through?” Asahi nodded and gulped down his apple bit. “Do you know of any places I could settle in?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman looked surprised. “You’re looking to settle down here?” At his nod, she continued, “You’ve a good head on your shoulders, people like you shouldn’t be wandering around like those ninja clans.”</p><p> </p><p>‘People like him,’ huh? Asahi smiled in acceptance of the ‘compliment.’ “Is there a plot of land I could work for?”</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t have to do that; some families here wouldn’t mind taking a young omega such as yourself in.”</p><p> </p><p>Hell no. That was a very polite way of saying that he should go and become a random person’s secondary mate. Why was she even asking that he quite literally just got here? After a moment of contemplation, he decided that he did not want to know.  Asahi pasted another polite smile on his face – he could not afford to alienate people right now, no matter how much he wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for the advice, but I just need a place alone, for now.”</p><p> </p><p>The woman tutted disapprovingly but obliged. “There’s one place on the edge of the village. It’s been abandoned for years, but –” The woman chattered on with Asahi nodding and making affirmative sounds at the right moments. He had taken all the money from those slaver’s campsite. Hopefully, it would be enough for a down payment or something on the house – well, cottage. It didn’t sound like it was big or luxurious by any means, but he was not picky. “- sell it when you settle down and find yourself a mate. A good dowry always helps.”</p><p> </p><p>Right. That was all he could take from her for the day. He bowed, thanked her for the food, and took his leave. That place she mentioned was on the northern edge of the village, so he made his way over that way. The other thing he had to worry about besides housing was income. It would be difficult for him to get a job, so he had to come up with something for himself. As he surveyed the market, an idea came to him. As Blair, he had made pottery as a hobby. Well, it was less of a hobby and more of an obsession.  Pottery making, pit-firing, kiln, decorating, he had done it all. He would have to experiment a little to figure out how hot he had to fire each type of clay he could get his hands on, but he could sell that. He knew a grand total of three earth Jutsu and two of fire, all of which were virtually useless in open combat, but would suit wonderfully for pottery making. He could pit fire them first, and then make a kiln when he was settled enough.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, he would have to somehow find a source of income before doing that – maybe one of the higher-class people would like a servant or something of the sort?</p><p> </p><p>That woman had not been kidding when she called it a fixer-upper. It was dilapidated and practically falling in on itself. But it was close enough to be considered part of the village, but far enough to give him some privacy, which was what he wanted. It was odd that this place had not been snapped up by some other resident of the area, but Asahi was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Decision made he headed back into the village to find out who to speak to about the property.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>His first year in the village was arguably the most physically taxing. The good thing was nobody owned the plot of land. It had been abandoned for years, and no one had mustered up the courage to take the property. There were superstitions about the place, and some even believed it cursed. Asahi did not care about curses or superstitions. He needed a place to stay, and he would live in that house even it had been the scene of a grisly murder. He just moved into the property and began fixing it up, along with creating the beginnings of a pit for firing pottery.</p><p> </p><p>He had managed to get a job as a servant in a wealthy civilian family’s home after a couple of months of living here. He had used all the money he had stolen on making his small home (shack) habitable, buying paints and clay, with the rest going to seeds to make a garden. He foraged and hunted for food and went down to the river to get water. There was no point in spending money on something he could acquire himself with a bit of effort.</p><p> </p><p>In this world, being male or female was about evenly distributed, but the three others were a bit different. Over half the population was beta, the next most popular being alpha, and then the smallest was omega. Interestingly enough, alphas and omegas showed up more often in ninja clans than in civilian families. How the three dynamics were viewed was one of those significant cultural differences in Clans and Civilians. In Clans, omega’s were sheltered – as much as a ninja clan can shelter anyone - mainly out of fear of bloodline theft than the belief that they were inherently weaker or more delicate. For civilians, omegas were supposed to stay in the home and be supported by their mates. So, a position as a domestic servant was one of the few ‘acceptable’ jobs for someone of his sex. He only worked in the mornings, and it didn’t pay much – barely anything, in fact – but it was work that he sorely needed.</p><p> </p><p>So his days had settled into a pattern of going to work as the sun rose, coming home in the afternoon to make pottery that he would begin to sell the next year, hunt for food and tend to his garden, and in the evening there was the training.</p><p> </p><p>He was very out of shape in the beginning. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay here forever – even if he wasn’t forced to run for some reason or another, he did not like the village and its stifling customs at all. He needed to make the best out of whatever time he would have here.</p><p> </p><p>He decided to focus on taijutsu and his ketsuryūgan. All he had for ninjutsu and genjutsu were the ones he learned as Ren. As for his dojutsu, activation was the simple part, but using the abilities was a whole other issue entirely. The blood manipulation came naturally, but the genjutsu aspect was out or his reach. It required some kind of emotional trigger to activate. His clan had never spoken to him about it directly, but whatever it was, it was not anything good.</p><p> </p><p>The worst thing about his first year was the monthly heats. After that first terrible time in the woods, they had not gotten any better. They started as usual, even built up usually, but then they just began to hurt. Instead of burning with want, he merely felt that he was burning alive, but it only lasted for a day instead of the standard three. He knew that it was not natural, but he could not afford a doctor, so he just decided to endure it. It made him weak and shaky for a time after each, but at least he only wasted a day instead of three.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was in the second year that he completed his ketsuryūgan.</p><p> </p><p>He had begun to sell his pottery and make a tidy additional income from it, and when he made enough money to be able to afford the materials for a kiln, he quit his job. He was thrilled to do it. He’d hated every second of his employment. The family that employed him – the Kamadas – were insufferable. They were a wonderful mixture of entitled and condescending that he loathed with a passion. The worst was that he had to smile and take it every day if he wanted to continue getting the small amount of money they paid him.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, quitting required him to speak to the sole alpha, and therefore the inheritor, of the estate. The man had given him the creeps from the second he had started working here, and he had gone out of his way to avoid him ever since. Not that his avoidance worked, he always ran into him at least once every few days.</p><p> </p><p>The man – Asahi never bothered remembering his given name, only referring to him by his last name as all the servants did – had been unexpectedly pleased with him quitting the job. Asahi had been confused as to why at least until the man offered – demanded – that he mate with him.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi politely declined. The man repeated his demand. Asahi impolitely declined.</p><p> </p><p>The Kamada decided to take more forceful measures. He used his Voice.</p><p> </p><p>The Voice had been terrifying. Asahi couldn't do anything against that man's will while he was using it. He had dropped to his knees upon hearing it, not even realizing he had fallen until he hit the ground. The instinct to submit to Kamada's demands had been overpowering under the thrall of the voice, despite his rage. It turned him into a doll, that could be manipulated in however way the man wanted. Thankfully, it seemed that the trigger for the ketsuryūgan was a combination of fury, fear, and helplessness, which Asahi had been feeling in spades. He had shut his eyes once he felt the burning and the pain broke the thrall he had been under. He immediately ran from the room before the Kamada could use his Voice again.</p><p> </p><p>The abilities of the ketsuryūgan were both chakra intensive and extremely powerful. The dojutsu allowed him to cast genjutsu by eye or skin contact, and even delve into a person’s mind in a way similar to a Yamanaka.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi was not strong enough to use most of those abilities, not yet. He could barely compensate fro the chakra drain of his now fully mature eyes when they were active. He decided to fix this problem by keeping his ketsuryūgan active at all times, with a genjutsu over his eyes to make them look like normal. It was incredibly draining but very effective.</p><p> </p><p>It was a good thing he had his complete dojutsu, too, because his physical abilities had begun to wane. He had started to feel strangely drained of energy, so much that it became more and more difficult for him to just stay in enough shape to be able to defend himself.</p><p> </p><p>He had started to gain his entire income by selling pottery in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colorations. He had finally been able to build his kiln, which was a godsend. He opted to make a medium-sized one as too big, took up too much space, and too small required too much attention in the firing process.</p><p> </p><p>He was lucky that he was one of the only people in the area to make pottery. He was able to get a tidy sum from it by charging cheaper than what the merchants would bring through.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi made it a rule never to get into direct contact with the merchants. Call him paranoid, but he didn’t want to risk anything about him getting out of this village. The Chinoike had plenty of enemies after all, and he didn’t want to risk someone hunting his down for revenge or his bloodline. He kept his head down as much as possible. Anonymity was his only protection, after all.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Year three was the most emotionally taxing. Rejecting the advances of a man prominent in society did not earn him many friends. It was considered unnatural for an omega to reject such a <em>generous </em>offer. After all, what kind of omega was not happy to be a homemaker whose sole purpose in life was to please their mate and pop out children?</p><p> </p><p>A defective one that is what he had to be. Asahi had always been a bit of an outlier in the village, but now he was more of a pariah. People still bought his wares, thankfully, but that didn’t stop them from talking or him from hearing. Apparently, he was a thieving whore who had merely been leading on the poor, generous Kamada’s who had given him a job and livelihood. Of course, that was ignoring the fact that he left because he was essentially going to be pressured into sex or worse and that he’d never had a partner (in this life, at least), but that was neither here nor there. What was his word against that of the respectable Kamada’s? Nothing. That was what it was worth.</p><p> </p><p>So, he drifted further into the fringes of society, longing for the day that he would be free of this place.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was in the late autumn of year four when everything changed.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi was in the forests a couple of miles away from the village to get a break from the pervasive atmosphere of the place he was forced to call home. He was taking a simple walk through the woods, enjoying the serene atmosphere when he caught the all too familiar scent of blood, terror, and distress in the air.</p><p> </p><p>He decided to follow it, not hearing any sounds of violence. If there was a survivor, they might need some help. It was a bloody scene he came upon, only a few yards away from the path he was wandering down, the aftermath of a shinobi conflict. There were a few corpses – too thoroughly destroyed for him to tell the clan – and for a moment, he thought that everyone was dead when his eyes fell upon a more intact body.</p><p> </p><p>It was a boy with bi-colored brown and white hair.</p><p> </p><p>Well, it would be white if it were not dyed scarlet with his own blood. Asahi would have thought him dead if not for the brief rise and fall of his chest. Unthinking of the danger of approaching an unconscious shinobi, he kneeled by the boy and forced chakra into his eyes to activate his dojutsu. He turned the boy over, and his eyes faded back into pale violet in shock.</p><p> </p><p>A Senju. Taking a closer look at his face, a vague memory from Blair came to the forefront of his mind. Not just any Senju, this was Itama. He could not help him. If he saved this boy’s life, then he would be involved with one of the two clans that he had wanted to avoid with all costs.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly disgusted with himself, Asahi shook his head and pushed his cowardly impulses away. When had his pathetic fears become worth more than the life of a child? Determined, he reactivated his ketsuryūgan and started manipulating the Senju’s blood. He would not leave this child to die.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For future reference, the one who carries a child is referred to as the mother, and the one who sires a child is referred to as the father.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A gift everyone can give</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As it turns out, transferring an unconscious person through the woods while making sure that they don’t die was far easy. Nevertheless, he managed to do so while cursing the fact that he was in an A/B/O universe. Whatever was draining his strength so much had something to do with his defective heats. Holding someone who couldn’t be more than 75 pounds should not be this taxing for a shinobi.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi crushed the thought. Now was not the time to be bemoaning the unchangeable.</p><p> </p><p>He forced himself to move faster. The constant chakra drain from keeping Itama’s blood inside his body vis ketsuryūgan wasn’t making things easier. The sooner he could get that cleaned and closed, the better.</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes later, he made it to his home. He pushed open the door and hefted Itama onto the single bed in the house. Itama stirred slightly as he placed him down before settling back into oblivion as a soothing purr rumbled from Asahi’s chest.</p><p> </p><p>From his scent, Itama hadn’t presented yet, which meant he was very susceptible to the soothing effect all Omega’s had. Asahi forced down the panic rising in his chest at the whole situation. Itama would probably wake up if he scented it. That soothing effect only worked as long as he stayed calm, after all.</p><p> </p><p>Moving quickly, he gathered what he needed from the main room before sanitizing his hands as best he could and returning to Itama. He stripped off the remnants of Itama’s shirt to get better access to the wound that was only held closed by the power of his still-active ketsuryūgan. Thankfully, there was only one major issue, a deep cut from a kunai. The other abrasions were minor and could wait.  From the look of things, Itama was dying of blood loss and nothing else. And thank whoever was listening for that, because blood loss was pretty much the only thing that Asahi could efficiently deal with.</p><p> </p><p>He took a moment to be thankful that the Senju was not awake, before getting down to the unpleasant business of stitching closed the major wound and bandaging the rest. He had to move quickly; the constant use of his dojutsu was not doing his chakra reserves any favors.</p><p> </p><p>He cleaned the wound, sanitized, and threaded a needle before beginning the familiar motions of threading a wound shut. Wound closed, he deactivated his ketsuryūgan. He was starting to feel the unpleasant mixture of fatigue and dizziness that signified chakra exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>He applied a honey-based paste to reduce the chances of an infection, bandaged the wound, and stumbled off into the main room of the house to get some rest. He made himself a nest of blankets that he promptly collapsed on, utterly exhausted.</p><p> </p><p>So much for his plan to stay away from the Senju and Uchiha.</p><p> </p><p>Itama would have died if he hadn’t interfered, so it wouldn’t be inaccurate to assume that he had successfully interfered with the plot of Naruto. A thing that he was trying to avoid.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t regret helping Itama. He could never regret saving a life. But it also meant that he might be involving himself in things that he didn’t want to get in to. Asahi was no wannabe savior of the world or anything. From what he knew of the plot of Naruto, it had ended relatively happily and peacefully. He would not delude himself into thinking that he was a man who could shape the entire world for the better. Besides, who was to say that any deliberate changes would end up as positive?</p><p> </p><p>No, he would just live his life in a way that suited him. If his actions changed things, then it would happen. If they didn’t, then they didn’t. It may be selfish of him, but he wasn’t going to let the distant future interfere with how he wanted to live.</p><p> </p><p>But he also wanted to avoid getting involved with the significant people of Naruto. Their lives were crazy, and he didn’t want to deal with that. He didn’t know if he could deal with that.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. He just had to roll with whatever was to come. If he were lucky, Itama would make his way back to his Clan once he was better, and that would be the end of it.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi burrowed deeper into his nest of blankets and surrendered to the beckoning arms of unconsciousness.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>There was a pot of soup simmering peacefully over the fire pit in the middle of the bigger of the two rooms in the hut. It wasn’t anything fancy – more vegetables and in water than anything else, but it would do. Asahi was mixing more salve for the still-unconscious Itama when he felt the Senju’s chakra pulse. He set down the bowl on the rough bench that doubled as his counter and made his way into the small bedroom that he put his injured guest in. He was still lying on the bed, eyes open, form stiff with pain. Asahi cleared his throat quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello. I’m Asahi. I found you in the woods a few days ago. I need to check your wounds. Do you mind if I…?”</p><p> </p><p>The Senju nodded after a second. As Asahi went about checking Itama’s injuries, the younger spoke up. “How long have I been out?”</p><p> </p><p>“Two days.” Asahi finished checking up on him – he needed to change Itama’s bandages and reapply the salve – before continuing. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that I’m not a civilian?”</p><p> </p><p>Itama nodded, looking a little surprised at his transparency. Asahi didn’t see a point in lying about things that anyone with even the slightest sensory abilities could figure out. He wasn’t doing anything to hide his chakra or change his behavior into something more civillianesque. Besides, the chances of a civilian stumbling upon a ninja battleground and making a choice to try to save a nearly dead combatant were decidedly low. Suppressing or not, anyone with the slightest hint of deductive reasoning would figure that he had at least some training.</p><p> </p><p>“I have no talent in medical ninjutsu, so I’m afraid that we’ll have to do this the long way.” Asahi stood from Itama’s bed and started making his way out of the room. “I’m going to change your bandages, and then I’ll bring you something to eat, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Grave injures aside, this wasn’t the worst way to meet a Senju. Certainly better than his interactions with the Uchiha.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi did not have positive feelings about the Uchiha. As Ren, he hadn’t been a fan of the Clan. He didn’t have the burning hatred his close family had, but he didn’t like them by any means – they had been the root of his Clan’s destruction after all. He had gained distance from those feelings when he remembered his first life. Of course, distance didn’t do much to resolve those feelings, but he could at least recognize that there was a lot more to the end of the Chinoike that just the Uchiha. No, the real root of his issues with the Uchiha was that one of them had killed him.</p><p> </p><p>He remembered his deaths very clearly. His first one had been of natural causes – he had died alone in a hospital bed. His second life had ended via a kunai to the chest. A kunai that had been wielded by a Sharingan-bearing woman.</p><p> </p><p>But, he did not want to think about that now. Or ever.</p><p> </p><p>He was aware that not thinking about his issues was neither a healthy nor sustainable coping mechanism, but what else was he going to do? It wasn’t like he could talk to anyone. He had become accustomed to this life of his, it wasn’t glamorous, but it was peaceful. He couldn’t think about the past, not if he wanted to keep the small amount of contentment that he had built for himself</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Asahi quickly found that Itama was a very optimistic, if quiet, person. Almost aggressively so. Itama complimented his (lackluster) cooking, was happy about his mediocre healing skills, and never once said anything about the conditions that he lived in. He seemed to go about to life with a forceful sort of cheer that could only be born from choice.</p><p> </p><p>He actually found it rather pleasant to be spending time with another person. Well, pleasant because said person wasn’t predisposed to dislike him for bullshit reasons like most of the people in this lovely village of his.</p><p> </p><p>Pleasant housemate or not, the routine in the initial days was very dull. Fortunately, Itama quickly grew well enough to walk- Asahi suspected that he knew some form of medical ninjutsu and was using it on the sly. That theory was confirmed when he removed the stitched a full three days before he should have been able to. In retrospect, skill in medical ninjutsu wasn’t strange considering who his eldest brother was. It also explained why his chakra levels weren’t recovering as fast Asahi thought they would.</p><p> </p><p>The great thing about Itama’s newfound mobility was that he didn’t have to be stuck all day indoors. He needed to move around more. There was no need to lose his hard-earned physical conditioning unnecessarily. So Asahi broached the subject while they were eating lunch.</p><p> </p><p>“Today’s market day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was going to go down and buy some things, do you want to come with?</p><p> </p><p>He went back to eating his soup that was more of a broth than anything else as Itama thought about it. Going out ran the risk of him being recognized by some opportunistic ninja from a rival Clan, but it would also let him get some much-needed exercise. Also, shinobi or not, Itama was a prepubescent boy. Being cooped up inside with nothing to do must be driving him insane.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” He continued after a second, a bit sheepishly. “I’m getting a little stir-crazy.”</p><p> </p><p>That’s what he thought. “Then we’ll go after we finish eating.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Itama’s first impression of the market was that it was loud.</p><p> </p><p>His second was that his host wasn't exactly welcome in the place. He was playing oblivious, but he could see the looks directed Asahi’s way and could hear the bits of gossip from the villagers. He was doubly grateful for the henge he had over himself because he was attracting judgemental stares by association. The biggest tell of Asahi’s pariah status was how the local vendors interacted with him. They set the prices higher than he knew to be reasonable, and they spoke to him with a mixture of condescension and scorn.</p><p> </p><p>Itama was like his oldest brother in that he tried to look for the best in people, but he was having a hard time doing that with the pervasive hatred of the people around him.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi didn’t seem to be bothered by it. He merely accepted it with a polite smile before continuing to go about his business. The attitude of the people in the village confused Itama. He had been wary, was wary still, but he didn’t see why they disliked him so. The man had saved his life and used his valuable resources to help him recover with seemingly no ulterior motivations. Asahi definitely knew that he was a Senju and maybe even knew that he was one of the sons of the Clan Head, but he didn’t leave him to die like most other shinobi from a rival Clan were taught to. And Itama knew that he was from a Clan.</p><p> </p><p>Clan ninja had certain qualities to their chakra that lone or civilian bor ninja lacked. There was a certain sense of age that was passed down from the people that walked before them. It was hard to detect, but Itama was like Tobirama in that he had excellent sensory abilities.</p><p> </p><p>Itama hadn’t managed to survive by being unobservant. He had noticed that the man gave him better food than he gave himself despite whatever illness he had, gave him the sole bed and that he seemed to be suffering from mild chakra exhaustion in the first few days after he woke up. That meant that he had put a lot of effort into healing him with some kind of chakra technique. Presumably, a Clan one, because Asahi did say that he didn’t know medical ninjutsu and Itama didn’t think that he was lying about that.</p><p> </p><p>That meant that Asahi was kind. Itama was barely past his first decade of life, and he knew that kindness to strangers was not common. It couldn’t be, not with the constant fighting.</p><p> </p><p>The only weird thing that stood out to him was that his host was an Omega living alone in poor conditions. He knew that civilians had a different view of Omegas than shinobi, but a common sentiment was that they shouldn’t be left alone. Even homeless ones usually formed some kind of group around them. Of all the genders, Omega were the ones that needed companionship the most. It was an actual biological and psychological need the was integral to their well-being. He didn’t get why Asahi lived in such isolation.</p><p> </p><p>But that isolation had to be a byproduct of the attitude of the village. Itama couldn't figure out why Asahi was shunned, so he decided to ask. After silently watching Asahi haggle down the cost of some overpriced bruised fruits into something more reasonable, he spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>“Why is everyone…” he waved a hand back at the woman with the overpriced bruised fruits “…like that to you?”</p><p> </p><p>Asahi handed him a plum, which Itama gratefully started devouring, before answering.</p><p> </p><p>“There was an incident with the ruling family in the area. The heir tried to mate with me, and I declined. Obviously, such behavior is unnatural for a person in my position, so many people are of the opinion that I am a freak of nature. Or a thieving slut. It changes from time to time.”</p><p> </p><p>Sensing Asahi’s unwillingness to talk about the subject, Itama changed the subject. Thinking about the paints and glazes he had seen inside of the small home they were sharing, he asked, “What do you do with the paints in your house?”</p><p> </p><p>Unexpectedly, his usually reserved host perked up and started rambling about pottery making and paint mixing, among other things. Itama smiled as he listened, happy to have lightened Asahi’s mood, and deliberately ignored the judgemental look from a civilian inside a market stall. There was no need to let people’s negativity drag him down.</p><p> </p><p>Lifting his face to the afternoon sun, Itama let himself bask in the temporary peace of his surroundings. If there was one good thing that came from almost dying, it was the break from everything. Between the never-ending war with the Uchiha and the ever-increasing expectations of his father, his home was not the friendliest place to be. Of course, having a friend that wasn’t part of his Clan was a nice bonus as well. At least, Itama considered them friends at this point. If Asahi wanted to ransom him or something, then he would have done it by now, anyways.</p><p> </p><p>However, Itama was still looking forwards to going home. He couldn’t imagine how Hashirmama and Tobirama must feel, thinking his dead. Kawarama had only died a year ago. The thought of losing another one of his brothers… he couldn’t think about that. Not now.</p><p> </p><p>Itama forcefully turned his attention back to his surroundings, immersing himself into the colors of the bustling market.</p><p> </p><p>Hours later, with purchases in tow, he asked the second question that had been on his mind about the villagers.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you stay here?”</p><p> </p><p>At that question, Asahi tipped his head back to look up at the now orange and pink-streaked sky, before answering after a few moments of silence.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Itama grew insistent on helping him around the house as he became better. Asahi had objected to the idea at first – it wouldn’t be very host like of him if he let his injured guest to menial chores – but Itama was insistent. As in, he woke up before Asahi did and made breakfast before spending the entire day doing basic tasks like cleaning and washing blankets when Asahi wasn’t looking. Knowing that he was fighting a losing battle, Asahi gave in. They decided o split things between them – Itama would handle a small amount of non-labor intensive things, and Asahi would do the rest.</p><p> </p><p>They were doing some of those chores when Itama posed a question that had been bothering him ever since he woke up here. Asahi was painting glaze over small intricately decorated vases and Itama cleaning dishes when he spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you save me?”</p><p> </p><p>Asahi had to take a moment to think before he answered. Why did he help him? He hadn’t taken the time to honestly think about it yet.</p><p> </p><p>“You were hurt, and I was in a position to help you.”</p><p> </p><p>The world they lived in was a cruel one. It took and took without giving anything back. Asahi would not let his humanity be one of those things. He knew that he could and most likely would be taken advantage of because of that, but he’d rather die with the ability to care than live as a hollowed-out shell of a man. He’d seen people like that in both of his lives, and it was a terrible way to exist.</p><p> </p><p>The pattern of domesticity they had settled into ended when Itama was well enough to leave, though not without a parting gift.</p><p> </p><p>It was at pre-dawn when Itama made to leave, a satchel of provisions that Asahi had politely but firmly insisted on him taking in hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Before I go…Ummm…”</p><p> </p><p>Asahi raised a brow, at Itama’s hesitation. “What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re sick, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Oh. He didn’t think Itama had noticed. “I am.”</p><p> </p><p>Itama reached out a hand that started glowing the signature green of medical chakra. “I can try to help if you’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>Stunned, Asahi could only nod his assent.</p><p> </p><p>That was…</p><p> </p><p>Well. It was more than he thought he would ever get. Asahi thought that he would just put up with whatever was wrong with him for the rest of his life.</p><p> </p><p>Itama moved closer and placed a hand on his chest, the soothing feeling of his chakra seeping through the cloth. The chakra rushed through his system, soothing away the constant aches and pains that Asahi had learned to live with.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t do too much. I hope it helps.”</p><p> </p><p>Not do too much? Asahi felt better than he had in at least two years.  </p><p> </p><p>“What you can do is more than enough. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Itama shook his head. After a moment of hesitation, he darted forwards and pulled Asahi into a hug. “No. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>He stood back before leaping off into the treeline, leaving nothing but dust and a surprised but happy Asahi in his wake.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A week after Itama left, Asahi woke up at dawn and went out to watch the sunrise, as was his norm. He was surprised to find that he missed having company. It had been so long since he had a friend.</p><p> </p><p>No matter. He could angst about his lack of a social life later. The sunrise waits for no man.</p><p> </p><p>He pushed opened his door and stopped as he saw a wooden basket on his doorstep. Bending down, he warily took of the lid only to be greeted with food and some other supplies. Flipping the lid over in his hands, he saw a note pinned to it.</p><p> </p><p>Picking up the note, Asahi read it<em>. </em>He smiled and crumbled the letter in his hand, before hefting the basket in his arms and bringing it into his home. Knowing Itama, this wasn’t going to be the end of things. It looked like a Senju was going to be a part of his life after all. Asahi couldn’t find it in himself to object to the thought.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter did not want to be written.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Both are transformed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I live.<br/>I gave myself a kick in the pants and wrote the rest of this chapter. I'm sorry for taking so long.<br/>BTW, I don't do the suffixes. I will mess them up if I do. Also, this is not an OCxOC fic. I have a paring in mind, and its with a canon character. Everything is strictly platonic the moment. From what I have planned, the plot begins to kick into high gear at chapter 6. </p><p>EDIT: If any of ya'll have opinions on pairing feel free to drop a review or something. I'm kind of dithering on the subject</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He didn't know if it was out of gratitude or something else, but Itama came back. Again and again, just as he said he would in that note. He also insisted on beating back his sickness every time he showed up. At his protests - Asahi didn’t want him to taste his chakra on something like that, it wasn’t worth it - he simply said that it was good training, before going back to it.</p><p> </p><p>Itama’s futile battle against his sickness aside, Asahi certainly didn't object to the company. It was nice, having someone else around.</p><p> </p><p>As the weeks grew into months, he was finding himself becoming more than simply resigned to his lot in life, he was actually finding a measure of contentment. Apparently all he needed was a friend. But even with Itama's visits, walking out of his home at the break of dawn to see Tobirama Senju on his doorstep was not how Asahi expected to start his morning.</p><p> </p><p>Upon seeing him standing there all stone-faced, menacing, and positively radiating an intimidating Alpha scent Asahi's heart leapt into his throat, and he reflexively slammed the door in the Senju's face. Then he realized how rude he was being and sheepishly opened the door again. It never paid to be rude to people who were as powerful as the future Nidaime. Asahi stepped out of his home and bowed slightly to the stoic man. "I apologize. You surprised me."</p><p> </p><p>After mentally bidding his peaceful morning goodbye, Asahi led the Senju into his home. He was rather miffed about the whole situation, not that he would show it. On Earth it was rude for a stranger to show up unannounced in the early hours. In this world it was a whole other level of intrusiveness. People formed a much greater attachment to their homes here, those unbonded most of all. Asahi was both unbonded and living alone. He had no mate or Clan to back him up, if he needed it. He was vulnerable. And his guests' presence was making him very aware of the fact.</p><p> </p><p>So, Tobirama was being more than a little rude.</p><p> </p><p>But Asahi was getting ahead of himself. Tobriama could have perfectly legitimate reasons for manifesting in his backyard at this time in the day. Those reasons most likely involved throwing him off his game so that the Senju could ensure that he wasn't going to hurt Itama, but he digressed.</p><p> </p><p>The other man stayed silent, his evaluating gaze burning into Asahi's head. After a moment, Asahi reopened his door and angled his body slightly towards the inside of his house. “I was just about to make breakfast, would you like to eat with me?"</p><p> </p><p>There was no point in having this conversation over empty stomachs.</p><p> </p><p>"…Yes."</p><p> </p><p>With that, the man sat down on one of the crudely hewn benches outside of Asahi's home. Some of his prickling unease receded a little, at the man's nonverbal refusal to enter his home. Being sure to keep the door open and stay within the other man's line of sight, Asahi quickly put together a couple of sandwiches.</p><p> </p><p>He gave one to Tobirama and pretended not to see him check for poison and other potentially nefarious things, before the Senju abruptly spoke. "My brother visits you often."</p><p> </p><p>He suspected correctly; this was about Itama. "Yes, he does."</p><p> </p><p>At that, Tobirama decided to cut to the chase. "Why did you save him?"</p><p> </p><p>Was basic human decency really so surprising?</p><p> </p><p>Right. Stupid question. Getting backstabbed was more common than a stranger helping another stranger. This world was ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>"Because I was in a position to help."</p><p> </p><p>The other man did not respond, just kept on staring with an evaluating gaze. Five very long minutes later, Tobirama stood up and vanished without so much as a by your leave. The sandwich was untouched.</p><p> </p><p>In response, Asahi buried his head into his hands and let out a very long sigh.</p><p> </p><p>That was quite possibly the most awkward interaction he'd had in all three of his lives.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Asahi ducked a slew of senbon and drew a kunai to block Itama's next few strikes, before lashing out with a kick that the other deflected.</p><p> </p><p>"Met your brother yesterday."</p><p> </p><p>Itama jumped back and blurred through the hand signs for a water jutsu.</p><p> </p><p>"How was it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Very awkward."</p><p> </p><p>Asahi substituted himself with a rock, and drew a kunai as the water hit the porous stone.</p><p> </p><p>"So Tobirama did go."</p><p> </p><p>"Wait, you knew?"</p><p> </p><p>"I suspected." Itama dodged the kunai headed for his chest, leapt away from Asahi, and pinned him with a look. “We’re supposed to be practicing jutsu, and you haven't used any yet.”</p><p> </p><p>Properly chastised, Asahi reluctantly formed the horse sign for the Great Fireball, and promptly let out a wave of flame. Itama disappeared, and was replaced with the same stone that Asahi used before.</p><p> </p><p>Panting slightly at the chakra drain - ninjutsu was not his strong point - he channeled chakra into his legs, jumped away from the group of kunai headed his way and formed the signs for another fireball. To Asahi's complete lack of surprise, Itama body flickered out of the way. Great Fireball was practically useless unless he was against an opponent slower than he was, but it was great for increasing chakra reserves when used enough. The fireball continued on its path to barrel into the still-heated substitution boulder. </p><p> </p><p>The explosion that followed was nothing short of extraordinary.</p><p> </p><p>Itama and Asahi peeked out from behind the hasty mud wall that the former had thrown up. They surveyed the ruined clearing. They exchanged a look. </p><p> </p><p> Fire plus soaking wet stone equals grenade. Huh.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Senju and Uchiha were just falling out of the sky, it seemed.</p><p> </p><p>It was Market Day, and Asahi was out just like every other person with wares to sell. There was a dark-haired woman surveying the goods across the street from him. A dark-haired dark-eyed porcelain-skinned woman. Of course, one couldn’t forget the fiery nature of her sizable chakra reserves. An Uchiha.</p><p> </p><p>He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. This town was situated firmly between Uchiha and Senju territory, making the town a good trading place for either clan, depending on the time of year. </p><p> </p><p>From what he’d figured out, both Clans wandered within their territory and had their famous clashes when they ran into each other on missions or when they were in close proximity to each other as they moved.</p><p> </p><p>At the moment, the Senju were on the part of the territory furthest from here. Itama had told him that he wouldn’t be able to meet him for a while, and then delivered a lecture on taking care of himself since he wouldn’t be around to keep his illness at bay.</p><p> </p><p>He signed and turned his mind back to Market Day. The woman turned towards his side of the street, and Asahi quickly hid his surprised horror. He recognized her face - he had seen it when she drove a kunai through his chest.</p><p> </p><p>She walked over to his stall, an interested expression on her face as she looked over his wares. Asahi pasted a polite smile onto his face and met the dark eyes of his killer.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you take commission? Your work is exquisite”</p><p> </p><p>He was torn between thanking her for the compliment - he had manners - and running to the relative comfort of his home. He settled for answering her question.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I do.”</p><p> </p><p>She continued her line of questioning, Asahi answering automatically. Her scent, the feel of her chakra - he didn’t know how much longer he could stand it. He could still see the triumphant expression on her face as she raised her kunai in preparation for the final blow, her sharingan blazing red in victory.</p><p> </p><p>“Wonderful, I’ll be back five days from now.”</p><p> </p><p>She bowed slightly at him, and continued down the line on stalls.</p><p> </p><p>What on Earth had he just agreed too?</p><p> </p><p>He reviewed the conversation in his head, saw the piece of paper on his stall counter, and groaned when he realized that he’d be seeing her much more than he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Dammit all.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Asahi wearily settled into his stall. He had been up late working. There was more work than usual, mostly because of the Uchiha. IT was a good thing - more work meant more money. But it also meant less sleep, in this case.</p><p> </p><p>He was thankfully more calm this time around, but he was in no way looking forward to seeing the Uchiha - well, her name was Hotaru, not that he was going to call her that. He tried to be as amiable as possible. He believed that he should treat everyone at least politely if he couldn’t manage anything else. But he couldn't help but want to stay away from her. She reminded him of more than his death - if it was just that, he would be able to move on faster. She reminded him of what he had left behind and what he had lost. Part of him still blamed the Uchiha for what happened to his clan, and for everything that had come after. And if it was just that irrational dislike, he would be able to get past it fairly well. Part of him felt that he owed it to his dead clan to dislike her, if nothing else.</p><p> </p><p>But the mixture of both, and the resulting feelings of fear, guilt, and anger that it stirred up made it difficult to be amiable.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose your crockery is…passable at least.”</p><p> </p><p>And then there was this asshole.</p><p> </p><p>He let in a deep breath, exhaled, and drew his composure around him like a cloak.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, Lord Kamada. Beautiful weather, isn't it?”</p><p> </p><p>For once in his life, he welcomed the interaction he was about to have with his former employer. At least anger was easier to process.</p><p> </p><p>Kamada sent a dismissive look towards the pink’d clouds and beaming rays of the rising sun.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose that something that ordinary would be interesting to you.”</p><p> </p><p>He lied. He’d rather be speaking to Hotaru. Kamada tried this all the time. If a lowly clanless - packless in civilian terms - omega like himself did anything offensive to an Alpha such as Kamamda, then the man could demand <em> reparations </em>. Asahi didn’t even think that Kamamda actually wanted him - he was just pissed that he had gotten away.</p><p> </p><p>He pasted the tried and true salesperson smile on his face, and refused to rise to his bait.</p><p> </p><p>“How can I help you?”</p><p> </p><p>He listened with half and ear as the Kamada made his order. He had no intention of spending any amount of time on something that would go to him. “...and it must be done by the end of this week.”</p><p> </p><p>Hold up. That would take at least a month. As the man droned on, Asahi searched for a polite way to tell the man that he was out of his mind. Then a cool voice cut across their conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Lord Kamada.”</p><p> </p><p>Standing there with the famous Uchiha Glare of Doom on her face was Uchiha Hotaru. Ashahi had never seen a man pale so fast. </p><p> </p><p>“I need to speak to Nagachika about my commission. Perhaps you would like to continue our conversation from earlier?”</p><p> </p><p>He never thought that he would think this, but thank the Kami for Uchiha Hotaru.</p><p> </p><p>The Kamada drew his self-importance around himself like a puffer fish, but Asahi spoke up before he could speak</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, but I must attend to this. Perhaps we could speak at a later date?”</p><p> </p><p>With that he turned his full attention to the Uchiha.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” Regardless of his mixed feelings, he certainly owed her.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t mention it. Seriously, fuck that guy.”</p><p> </p><p>That startled a laugh out of him.</p><p> </p><p>With a genuine smile that surprised himself - and the Uchiha, he could see it in her face, she was more expressive than he first thought - he asked, “How can I help you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I had a few more things to commission. Time isn’t an issue for me - I’ll be here for quite some time.”</p><p> </p><p>In other words the Uchiha Clan was settling in this area for a while. Why? Had something happened with the Senju - they were usually the reason that he didn’t see many Uchiha in the area.</p><p> </p><p>Had something happened to Itama?</p><p> </p><p>He carefully kept his thoughts off of his face. She was studying him more intently than he liked.</p><p> </p><p>“Is there a place where we could sit down? It's rather crowded out here.”</p><p> </p><p>That made him pause. No way did she care about the crowd, she wanted to speak to him without the distractions. Or the witnesses. Looks like hadn’t been as subtle in his dislike as he thought.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d be glad to.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They settled in a place that allowed him a view of his booth and to his surprise, they actually talked about her commission.  Eventually she brought up Kamada again, and the conversation veered into something more friendly.</p><p> </p><p>For a time, he actually forgot who he was speaking to. It was almost funny, without circumstances in the way of things, he found that he liked her.</p><p> </p><p>He felt like he was somehow betraying his Clan because of that. HE felt like he was betraying himself. She had killed him. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t for personal reasons, or that it was because of the wars. She had still killed him.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t like her. He couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Except that wasn’t how things went.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know if it was because she suspected something of him or because she genuinely wanted to befriend him, but Hotaru would not leave him alone. She didn’t let him hide behind his defense of politeness, she deliberately made him engage with her beyond the surface level interactions that he was so fond of. She spoke to him about her ‘the progress of her commission’ which he knew was an excuse. No way did she have that level of interest in the minutiae of kiln construction.</p><p> </p><p>How did she even have so much time on her hands? Wasn’t she on a mission or something?</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t understand it. And if he was honest, he didn’t like the conflict it was creating in him. </p><p> </p><p>At his center, he yearned for companionship. He didn’t like to be alone. Could he really ignore an outstretched hand because he hadn’t faced his issues? OT didn’t matter if that hand was motivated by suspicion or something of that nature, it was still an opportunity to get to know another person. Could he really pass that up and continue through life with only one friend?</p><p> </p><p>Did he really value his anger that much?</p><p> </p><p>In a way, Hotaru had offered him a fresh start. His death had provided an opportunity to start anew, as a new man. If he hadn’t died, then he wouldn’t be who he was now. He would still be Ren.</p><p> </p><p>His experiences as Blair mattered just as much as his experiences as Ren. And in that first life he would have done anything for a friend, no matter what they had done to him in the past. If there had been an opportunity, he would have taken it.</p><p> </p><p>He was quite certain that he was still the same way.</p><p> </p><p>Because despite his feelings towards the Uchiha Clan, despite Hotaru's involvement in his death, he did like her. He liked spending time with her, liked having that companionship with another person. He was coming to think of her as his only friend aside from Itama.</p><p> </p><p>But. He just felt so. So <em> guilty </em> because of it. He knew what his family would say - he was sympathizing with the enemy, he was a traitor to his Clan. And Hotaru had been the one to kill him. He could still remember it vividly, her blade sinking into his chest, the searing heat of her chakra, and part of him hated her for it.</p><p> </p><p>Well. If he was being honest, part of him was terrified because of it.</p><p> </p><p>But he thought that she was coming to care for him. And he was starting to care for her too. He valued the potential for friendship more than he cared for his rage.</p><p> </p><p>Asahi didn't like the weight of his past and of his Clan's past on his shoulders. He couldn't bear it - the weight of his dead Clan's fury. More than that, he didn't want to. For all that he cared for his Clan and took pride in bearing the Chinoike legacy, the dead's hatred was not his burden to carry. And his own demise was a weight he wanted to abandon.</p><p> </p><p>He breathed in, and let the rage, the fear, the anguish, the <em> pain </em> of his death - of his Clan's death - fill his soul, breathed out, and let it all go.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know that the likelihood of the stone exploding like that is pretty low, but I reserve the right to ignore the laws of nature in a Naruto fic.</p>
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